In the months leading up to Wylde’s birth, I got to know her mama more deeply, and as I learned about the story of her, my anticipation swelled. What an incredibly special birth to be a part of.
Here is the story in Shay’s own words (followed by photos):
Long before I became a mom I wanted a daughter. When I started having babies, I didn’t think it would seem so hard, almost feeling nearly impossible, to have a girl. My first son came, then a second and then a third. My husband and I decided our fourth pregnancy would be the one we really prayed and asked God for her. But When the ultrasound technician said the words “it’s a girl” I hardly could believe it. Feelings of shock, joy, and fear of it being wrong were all mixing inside.
But after holding her in my heart for so many years and through 41 long weeks of pregnancy, Our daughter finally came.
It was 8 days past my due date: 41+1 weeks. Every day that passed after my due date felt like it was passing in slow motion. Every day that I would wake up not in labor, I would inevitably have a mental break down first thing out of bed. I started to believe I would be pregnant forever… some kind of pregnant purgatory if you will. And I got to thinking that maybe there wasn’t a baby in there after all. Hello dramatic hormones.
On May 7th, I rolled rather slowly out of bed still full of baby in my belly and walked down the stairs. I sat down feeling quite defeated and miserable. I felt a cry coming on that I knew could not be suppressed despite the fact that my children, husband and mother were in the room. A gut wrenching sob fell out of mouth as I fell into My husbands arms. I’m talking super ugly crying. My children were deeply concerned. My mom gave me a sympathetic “I remember that feeling” kind of look. No one really knew what to do with me by this point.
The kids went to school. Vince went to work. I cried some more and then crawled back into bed. I closed the blinds and tried to keep it as dark as possible. (Most labors Start in the dark so I figured I could at least try to facilitate that. ) lucky for me, I started feeling contractions. I didn’t want to think they were anything because I’d had a few false starts. But as time went by they kept coming… they got stronger. I thought maybe this was finally It. But I didn’t want to say for sure.
Vince came home and called the midwives. He helped me through a few contractions that were hard but pretty spread apart. I decided to go downstairs and saw Vince setting up the tub. I thought he was getting ahead of himself. But That was about the time a real hard contraction hit me and I finally decided to believe it was for real this time.
It was about noon when everyone got there. She didn’t make her grand entry until 5:32 pm. I had been asking God for a slower labor than with Levi – my third son. His was very fast and I didn’t feel I had time to process. I prefer longer births. I don’t mean a longer harder one. I just mean longer. The waves come in slower and more peacefully. Plus I had decently long breaks in between my contractions. Literally until it was time to push. I had lunch. I went on a walk. I connected to Vince and joked with my midwives. Even when I was at a 9! My transition was very different than any of my other labors I had had before. I truly enjoyed her labor.
When it was time to push though, all the force in the world saved itself for those 8 very long minutes. When a pushing contraction happens you still get breaks where you can collect yourself. Even if just for a minute. But that didn’t happen this time. It was non stop force- no breaks. Those 8 minutes felt very. Very. Long. Im usually a quiet pusher. Not this time. I was probably the loudest I’ve ever been in my life. I was roaring. I felt every inch of the baby moving through me as she crowned, and then as the rest of her slipped out. But as soon as she came out, everything went back to normal. Everything in my body felt fine. Peaceful even. As if nothing had just happened.
I remember staring down at her in total awe as I started to cry. I saw teardrops on Vince’s glasses that he had taken off his face and knew he was also crying. I have never felt that much gratitude in my life for the God who cares and answers our desires.
I like to think my daughter lived out her name through her birth. Her story and her message are of Hope. Hope comes to us in waves of intensity and seasons of silent pausing. I think She took her time coming because hope sometimes can feel like it’s hanging by a thread or coming in at the last possible minute. But it always comes. And when it was time for her to be born she came with fire and fury, like when we truly allow ourselves to sink into that deep Wild Hope.
Midwifery : West Michigan Midwifery
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